


Seeking and Running

by MusicPrincess655



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Shirabu's shit ass emotional stability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicPrincess655/pseuds/MusicPrincess655
Summary: Shirabu has always been a study in contradictions. Semi thinks he's figured him out anyway.





	Seeking and Running

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for the lovely [ Andy ](https://iceandbrimstone.tumblr.com/) for the HQ Writers Secret Santa. They asked for something based on the quote "When I first met you/I felt a contradiction in you. You're seeking something/but at the same time/you are running away for all you're worth" - Haruki Murakami. I thought this fit Shirabu so well that I couldn't not write it. I hope you enjoy!

Shirabu was punishing himself.

Eita couldn’t say he blamed him. The loss to Karasuno burned bitter in the back of his throat, in all of their throats. But Shirabu was taking it especially badly. As a fellow setter, Eita could empathize with the self-doubt, the way the plays he could’ve made would bounce around inside his head.

And he knew that the way Shirabu was throwing himself through a late night practice wasn’t going to help anything.

“You need to stop,” Eita said. He’d been watching Shirabu go at it for over an hour, when he’d wandered over to the gym expecting a quiet place to think and instead been met with the sight of a furious setter going at serve after serve. He’d barely acknowledged Eita when he came in, but Eita knew Shirabu knew he was there.

“I have to do something.”

“This isn’t going to help.”

Shirabu smacked the ball in his hands over the net with a scream, not even bothering to try for a jump serve.

There it was again. That contradiction that Eita had sensed in him from the minute he’d introduced himself to the team in his first year with his particular brand of rudeness that masqueraded as politeness. Shirabu had made no secret of the fact that he wouldn’t be playing volleyball after high school, pushed people away if they got too close, and in general projected an air of trying his damn best to run away from everyone.

But Eita had never seen anyone try as hard as Shirabu did. He worked harder than anyone else in practice, reviewed tapes and tailored his strategy to them. It had been the one thing that had lessened the sting of losing his place on the first string; at least he’d lost to someone who had worked harder than him from the beginning.

Even if Eita had been angry, he had to give Shirabu his respect.

“You should go get some sleep,” Eita told him, walking to where he stood on the court. Shirabu faced him, eyes red rimmed and exhausted but no less defiant than they’d always been. That was where the contradiction had always been the most obvious – no one who didn’t care had eyes with that kind of fire in them.

“I don’t want to.”

“Too bad,” Eita said, brushing Shirabu’s hair out of where it was starting to stick to his cheeks and blocking his eyes. “Beating yourself up doesn’t help anyone.”

Shirabu didn’t say anything, and Eita couldn’t say he blamed him.

“I could’ve tossed to someone else,” Shirabu said. “Ushijima-san was exhausted, someone else might have been able to get through.”

“You can’t change it now,” Eita said. “Dwelling on it is just gonna drive you crazy.”

Their faces had drifted closer together, the hushed room around them driving their voices to lower volumes until they were leaning in to hear each other’s whispers. Eita could see the faint freckles on Shirabu’s nose, the grey tones in his eyes, the way his sweaty hair was starting to curl.

It wasn’t like Eita hadn’t noticed his attraction to Shirabu before now. He was incredibly bisexual, and Shirabu was pretty. Eita had always enjoyed a challenge, and Shirabu was that in spades. Still, he didn’t usually have to see it this close up.

“Shirabu…” he started, but Shirabu was already whirling away.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, voice not quite the prim reprimand it used to be. “Good night, Semi-san.”

***

Apparently it had affected Eita more than he’d realized, because he’d spent his entire graduation ceremony thinking about it. It was almost fitting that when they were released, certificates in hand, the first person Eita saw was Shirabu, looking a little out of place even among the other team members that were there to congratulate the third years. Eita made a beeline to him, a little away from everyone else.

Shirabu nodded to himself, apparently ready to say whatever he had to say. Eita was fully prepared for Shirabu to unload every grievance he’d had for two years. He wouldn’t even begrudge him, as long as he got to throw a few back.

“Well, I can’t say it’s been a pleasure working with you, but I wish you well, Semi-san,” Shirabu said, hands tucked demurely in his pockets, the picture of aloof pseudo-politeness that he’d always been. It was something that Eita had never been able to stand about him, perfect boy façade that hid that contradiction that Eita had been able to sense since the very beginning.

But it was different this time. Eita could see through the cracks in that façade for what felt like the first time. He was leaving Shiratorizawa, and it had never felt like a better time to pry them wide open. Besides, he finally felt like he understood the contradiction that was Shirabu Kenjirou.

“What are you always running from?”

Shirabu looked like he wanted to run right now, but he had too much pride to do so.

“I’m not running from anything, Semi-san,” he said, in a tone that didn’t quite measure up to his normal just-this-side-of-rude sass.

“Yes you are,” Eita argued. “You have been since I met you, and probably before that too. You can’t tell me you don’t care about anyone here. I’ve never seen anyone _try_ as hard as you do, in everything you do, for a sport you claim to be done with as soon as you leave high school. You care about volleyball, and you care about this team. But you push everyone away as soon as they get close.”

Shirabu didn’t say anything. He looked unsettled, the way he had that night on the court when Eita had been close enough to touch more than his physical body.

“What are you running from?” Eita asked again, softer. This time, with the absence of an audience that actually believed him, Shirabu deflated, fight leaving the tense set of his shoulders.

“I’m not supposed to love volleyball,” he said, in a voice like broken glass. “I’m not supposed to want to hold onto it with the tips of my fingers. I’m not supposed to care about the people on some stupid high school sports teams, no matter how many championships we won. I’m not supposed to like…”

Shirabu trailed off, but Eita understood enough to finish for him.

“Boys?” he asked, more gently than he’d ever treated Shirabu before. Shirabu looked a combination of terrified that Eita had figured it out and resigned to his fate.

“I hope I can trust you not to spread that around,” Shirabu sighed. “I still have expectations to meet, after all.”

“Fuck them.” Shirabu looked shocked – which was a little hypocritical for someone who swore like a sailor when he was pissed – but Eita didn’t give him a chance to recover. “No, I’m serious. Fuck them. Fuck whatever expectations are on you. If you want to play volleyball, then play volleyball. You’ve already proven that you’re good enough. If you want to care about this stupid high school sports team, then stop pushing them away. If you want to kiss a boy, just fucking do it.”

Shirabu’s mouth opened and closed almost comically. Eita had seen his face run the gamut of emotions, but he’d never seen this one before. Part shock, part vulnerability, part something that not even Eita could identify, even after coming to understand Shirabu better.

“You don’t have to figure everything out right now,” Eita told him. “You have time. And if you want my help, you know how to find me on LINE. I’m still going to be Sendai. If you want, I can be here for you.”

“If I hadn’t panicked in the gym that one time, would you have kissed me?” Shirabu asked.

“Would you have wanted me to?”

Shirabu looked as frustrated as Eita had ever seen him, which said a lot.

“Before I go, there _is_ something I need to give you,” Eita said. “I know we don’t have the right kind of uniforms for this, but you’ve given me more hell over the past two years than anyone else. If anyone deserves this, it’s you.”

Shirabu took the button Eita held out for him, looking a little numb as he did so.

“I don’t need an answer right now,” Eita said. “Take all the time you need to figure yourself out. You know how to find me.”

Eita tried to turn away, leave Shirabu to his own thoughts, but before he knew what was happening, Shirabu’s face was in front of his and their lips were pressed together.

Eita barely had any time to try and respond to the kiss before Shirabu pulled back, blushing furiously.

“You better answer my texts,” Shirabu said in a voice that was clearly meant to be deadly but in practice was about as threatening as a six week old kitten.

“Of course I will.”

“And come to our games.”

“As long as I’m not drowning in work.”

“And don’t go chasing after the first pretty girl you see in Sendai.”

“Have I somehow given you the impression that I’m unfaithful to my partners?”

Shirabu huffed.

“I’m not going to give you some bullshit confession,” he said.

“I think I’d be concerned if you tried,” Eita told him. Shirabu gave him an unimpressed look. “For what it’s worth, I like you too.”

For the first time, it didn’t feel like a contradiction between running like hell and fighting like hell was tearing Shirabu apart. He just felt like Shirabu Kenjirou – pretty boy, theoretical perfect child, permanent resident under Eita’s skin.

Eita wouldn’t have him any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: [ musicprincess655 ](http://musicprincess655.tumblr.com/)


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